Esurientes Implevit Bonis
by SeenaC
Summary: "Adjacent" to my continuing narrative.  This is an exploration of Mycroft's mind the morning that he meets the mother of his child.  Rated "M" for adult subject matter, nothing explicit.  COMPLETE!  Please give final thoughts/reactions!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is really more of a character study than anything. It's very different from anything else I've written before. I originally intended for it to be just one chapter, but it's getting longer than I originally thought, so there will be a second chapter after this one.

Esurientes Implevit Bonis - 1

Mycroft Holmes stood in front of his full-length mirror to do one last final check of his clothing. He was always very fastidious in his dress, but today was extra special. It's not every day that a man meets the mother of his child for the first time.

It's not that Mycroft was a particularly vain man, Mycroft Holmes didn't suffer from such petty character deficiencies. No, it was better to describe him as meticulous. Every detail matters, in every situation. Every variable that can be controlled _must_ be controlled, or you risk losing control over the situation. A loss of control can lead to anarchy, and anarchy must be avoided at all costs.

This description might make him sound like a dour, compulsive control freak, and certainly his enemies (of which he had many) would describe him as such. But those that knew him very well (and they were very few) knew better.

While he often acted as a controlling despot, it was largely in the character of a benevolent one. He certainly could be ruthless, and frequently was. However, those who found themselves bearing the brunt of his displeasure had always done something to earn it. He was not a capricious man.

In this particular situation, Mycroft had already lost an alarming amount of control, and was prepared to use every tool in his possession to wrest any little bit of it back.

The first, and most obvious outrage was the fact that this young boy existed at all. Not that Mycroft bore any ill will toward the child, in fact, now that he had learned of and come to terms with his son's existence, he was quite anxious to get to know him and be the best father he could possibly be, and make up for the time he had lost if at all possible.

But how the child had come to exist was a personal betrayal of the highest order. Mycroft's then family physician had requested "routine" sperm samples from him years ago, and then apparently used those samples to later impregnate the doctor's daughter. At least, that was the current hypothesis, based on the available evidence that Mycroft had. He fully intended to verify the facts with the child's mother that day.

Unfortunately, there was no possibility of confronting the guilty doctor, as he had deceased a little over a month ago after a long bout with cancer. Because the most vital person related to the situation was now beyond his reach, Mycroft knew that it became that much more important that he make a success of this meeting with Margaret Hyde-White.

_My 'baby mama'_ - thought Mycroft to himself. _Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would ever have such a person in my life._

It wasn't that Mycroft was against the ideas of sex and procreation on a theoretical level, not at all. It's just that he had always been extremely careful in his sex life to never have a pregnancy as a possible outcome. And if he had ever been likely to cause an unplanned pregnancy, it would have happened many years ago, before the mother of Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes had been murdered.

Mummy's murder had changed everything. Up until that point, Mycroft was close to having earned the label of "libertine" or even "hedonist." He had always been a pleasure-seeker, even as a child, particular about his creature comforts. He would simply refuse to eat food that didn't please him, or wear clothes that didn't look good and also feel good against his body. On reaching sexual maturity, carnal pleasures were added to the list of the delights of life.

He sampled anyone who caught his interest and was willing. Gender and conventions were irrelevant to him where pleasure was concerned. He enjoyed the delights of both the male and the female body, for him, they each had their particular charms and so he socialized as it suited his fancy at any given time.

He was a spectacularly good lover. His exceptional ability to read people enabled him to pleasure his partners and to fulfill their desires almost before they were aware of them themselves. He was imaginative and inventive, a definite advantage as he came of age at the height of safe-sex awareness. He was always safe, but no one who ever had his attentions ever felt that anything was missing from the repertoire.

Mummy's murder had turned everything around. Aside from the intense grief that he felt over the loss, it also caused Mycroft to see the world in an entirely different way. Rather than an unending garden of delights, the world was actually a very dangerous place. Evil people were constantly undermining the safety and security of those who merely wanted to live their lives in peace and happiness.

Mycroft saw then that pleasure, comfort, and peace were actually very fragile things, and only made possible by what humans call "civilization." Without civilization, the world is a place of naked brutality and the constant struggle for survival.

And so, Mycroft had dedicated himself to becoming actively involved in preserving civilization. He worked his way into the government with a single-minded purpose that, with his considerable intellectual gifts, earned him every power he craved. He held the power of life and death and his orders went unquestioned (none of them had ever resulted in a less-than-successful outcome). He devoted his life to protecting the U.K. from every threat he possibly could, and often also aided the other Western, liberal democracies. He saw them as bastions of individual freedom, places where people could pursue their own happiness and pleasures, sheltered from an often cruel and brutal world. What had originally begun as a personal quest to solve his mother's murder and bring the guilty to justice had grown into a life-long quest to bring as much peace and security as possible to Western Civilization - by any means necessary. So of course the irony of Mycroft's life was that in protecting liberal democracy, Mycroft himself was neither liberal nor democratic in his actions and decisions.

Mycroft did not agonize over this. He saw the contradiction, but was unbothered by it. He saw no reason to tolerate intolerance. If being bigoted toward bigots was the price he had to pay, then so be it. He would happily take the label of hypocrite, if it meant that he was able to thwart one senseless act of violence or terror. The ends most certainly justified the means.

As a result of this avocation, and the sensitive position he occupied in the British government, Mycroft had limited himself to only a few discreet dalliances over the years since the murder.

Food had become Mycroft's main source of bodily pleasure, which is why he waged a constant war with his waistline. It was a conflict that much amused his younger brother, who relished skewering one of Mycroft's few weaknesses.

Lately, however, Mycroft had become aware that he was a bit lonely. The arrival of Dr. John Watson was really the catalyst that brought it to his attention. Dr. Watson was so perfectly suited to being Sherlock's companion that it made Mycroft officially change his religious status from "Agnostic" to "Belief in _Something_."

John Watson was everything Sherlock needed, and it appeared the reverse was true as well. He wasn't jealous of his brother, no, he was overjoyed for him. He wanted Sherlock to be happy, but had never been able to properly accomplish it himself, mostly due to fraternal stubbornness on both sides. But this relationship with John Watson was everything Mycroft could have hoped for on behalf of his brother.

It was true that they still hadn't progressed to a physical relationship, but Mycroft wasn't concerned, yet. He had been a little disappointed to discover that their beginning to share a bed hadn't resulted in intimate contact, but, it was only a matter of time. It was clear to him that Sherlock was madly in love with the doctor, as madly as Sherlock Holmes was ever likely to be, anyway. Of course, Sherlock himself was unaware of this, as he had no frame of reference, and didn't understand what his feelings were.

Mycroft was putting his faith in John for the successful consummation of the relationship. Sooner or later, with a warm, open-hearted person like John was, his libido would fall into alignment with the already ardent love he obviously had for Sherlock. It was a bit frustrating to watch from the sidelines, however. But, in a remarkable show of restraint, Mycroft had not interfered in any sort of direct way to try and force things along.

While all this was cheering, it pointed out the distinct lack of any Dr. Watson in Mycroft's life. The occasional discreet one-nighter was all well and good, but Mycroft found himself yearning for something a bit more...permanent.

He had never considered marriage a possibility, because, even more so than his brother, he was married to his work and he strongly felt that to marry someone would be dishonest to them. He simply could never be a proper husband. He had regarded fatherhood in much the same way.

But if he could find someone who could be content with what he could offer, someone who understood and was comfortable with his priorities, that would be nice. That someone would have to meet such a list of criteria, it seemed like a hopeless thing to wish for...

However, a certain silver-haired Detective Inspector had caught his eye and taken root in his thoughts of late. There was a lot to be attracted to in Detective Inspector Lestrade. He would know and understand about how work comes first. He would also understand how the maintenance of peace and order wasn't always pretty. He was of unimpeachable character, as well as being easy on the eyes. He was obviously tolerant and understanding, more so than the average person, as he put up with Sherlock and even expressed care and concern for him. But even beyond all that, Mycroft sensed a banked volcano of suppressed desire and loneliness that Mycroft identified with.

Unfortunately, Lestrade was critical to Sherlock's career, and a liaison with Lestrade would just be "all kinds of wrong" (as the current saying goes) on a number of levels. It just wouldn't be fair to his younger brother, not at all.

So, Mycroft stoked the fires of his own frustrations and limited himself to the most subtle of flirtations with the DI when they had occasion to meet. The results were always deliciously flattering, but left Mycroft feeling only more lonely and frustrated.

Mycroft was pulled from his musings by the car stopping. He had arrived at the office of Margaret Hyde-White's lawyer. Mycroft could see his own lawyer pacing impatiently on the sidewalk, waiting for him to arrive. It was time to meet the mother of his child...

TBC...

A/N: Okay, so I'm dying to know how those of you who've been following my stories feel about this insight into Mycroft. Feedback is begged for!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to those of you who have expressed interest in this story. I should mention that this story will make a lot more sense if you have at least read my previous story "I Am Hated For Loving" in order to understand the context of the events of this story.

Esurientes Implevit Bonis - 2

Mycroft met his lawyer and they went inside the building together. Mycroft's lawyer was absolutely trustworthy, and had all the needed information at his fingertips, so Mycroft planned on letting him do most of the talking while he observed Margaret Hyde-White and her lawyer carefully.

He had researched both of them ahead of time, of course, but the plain facts of a person's life don't always tell you what kind of person they really are. One of Mycroft Holmes' many gifts was the ability to deduce your entire personality within three minutes of meeting you.

Therefore, within five minutes of sitting down in the lawyer's office, Mycroft found himself quite pleased and happy with the mother of his child. She was certainly intelligent, with a D. Litt. in Medieval History, but more importantly she was an open, honest person, anxious to be friendly and pleasing. She clearly didn't have a single devious bone in her body.

This was putting her lawyer, Mr. Stone, at a distinct disadvantage, as she was continually volunteering information and offering accommodations which her lawyer kept trying to discourage, "What Ms. Hyde-White means to say is..." was used repeatedly.

Mycroft could see that she had a very sheltered upbringing, and had been extremely close and emotionally dependant on her father as her mother had died in a car accident when Margaret was quite young. Since her father's death of approximately one month ago she had been feeling alone and insecure in the world. She was clearly delighted at the prospect of having a willing partner to help her raise her child.

"She's entirely _too _trusting," Mycroft thought to himself, "she's fortunate that I have come into her life with only good intentions. I'll have to work on that with her."

But, he couldn't help feeling kind-hearted toward her. Much to her lawyer's chagrin she told the story of how Taliesin came to be born. After her father received his terminal cancer diagnosis, he expressed his wish to hold a grandchild before he died. Margaret was just barely twenty, and still in uni, but couldn't deny her father his dying wish. So, she had agreed to an in vitro fertilization. She said her father arranged everything, but told her the sperm was from an anonymous donor.

Agreements and arrangements were made for an independent genetic test to be done to confirm the parentage of Taliesin. Mycroft, through his own means, had already had one, so he knew the result was a foregone conclusion. But, it was important to let Margaret and her lawyer see the proof through channels they knew they could trust.

Even though she didn't have the proof yet, Margaret was quite happy to tell Mycroft about her son.

"He can already read Old, Middle, and Modern English, so I'm starting him on Latin and Greek," she informed him proudly.

_Heavens! _Thought Mycroft behind his polite smile, _a child of the 21st century would be much better served by learning Chinese or Arabic. Medievalists don't have a practical bone in their bodies!_

But, try as he might, he couldn't feel any sort of anger toward Margaret, with her charming, eager smile, and obvious love and care for their son.

All-in-all, it was a remarkably successful meeting from Mycroft's perspective. Margaret was both lovely and of good character, Taliesin was healthy and flourishing, and all that remained was getting the test results back so that he could finally meet his son in person.

As Mycroft made his way back to his car, he pleasantly tumbled the possibilities over in his mind. He could see that he would now have plenty to occupy his mind and heart, and that his restless loneliness was likely to become a thing of the past. He would now have a son to raise and teach, as well as what promised to be a close and pleasant relationship with Taliesin's mother.

By the time he was settled in the backseat and rolling toward his office, Mycroft had determined that both Margaret and Taliesin would be living under his roof by Christmas. After all, he had to ensure their safety, they were now his family and his responsibility.

He was confident that Sherlock would approve. Sherlock had long complained that Mycroft was entirely too parental in his attitude toward him. Now that he actually had a son to parent, and Sherlock had a caring companion better suited to looking after him, maybe they could finally be brothers again.

Mycroft was already imagining Christmas dinner with himself, Margaret, Taliesin, Sherlock and John all gathered around the family table. He knew he was being romantic and fanciful, but for the first time in a very long time, he felt that it was also a vision within his grasp. To have a happy family again, after so many years of sorrows and resentments, it seemed almost too good to be true.

Once given a goal, Mycroft was a difficult man to thwart. He knew he could make this happen, and he was going to start building his plans today.

First item on his agenda, start creating a bedroom for Taliesin to stay in for visits. Mycroft had plenty of rooms that could be converted. Which one would be best? How could he best decorate it for a child of Taliesin's age and interests?

Mycroft had a sudden change of plans for his day. For a project like this, he would need some help and input.

He leaned forward and informed the driver, "Change of destination, 221B Baker Street."

End

A/N: So...please let me know what you think. I'm not planning on making Mycroft and his son a focus of my ongoing narrative, but they will pop in from time to time.

Next story will be a new Adventure for Sherlock & John...


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